Flog a Pro: Would You Turn the First Page of this Bestseller?
By Ray Rhamey | March 17, 2022 |
Trained by reading hundreds of submissions, editors and agents often make their read/not-read decision on the first page. In a customarily formatted book manuscript with chapters starting about 1/3 of the way down the page (double-spaced, 1-inch margins, 12-point type), there are 16 or 17 lines on the first page.
Here’s the question:
Would you pay good money to read the rest of the chapter? With 50 chapters in a book that costs $15, each chapter would be “worth” 30 cents.
So, before you read the excerpt, take 30 cents from your pocket or purse. When you’re done, decide what to do with those three dimes or the quarter and a nickel. It’s not much, but think of paying 30 cents for the rest of the chapter every time you sample a book’s first page. In a sense, time is money for a literary agent working her way through a raft of submissions, and she is spending that resource whenever she turns a page.
Please judge by storytelling quality, not by genre or content—some reject an opening page immediately because of genre, but that’s not a good-enough reason when the point is to analyze for storytelling strength.
Prologue versus Chapter Today we’re going to look at a novel’s prologue and first chapter. Prologues sometimes don’t fare well with literary agents (and readers), so I’m interested in how this one serves the goal of engaging a reader. There will be two polls.
How strong is the opening page of this novel—would it, all on its own, hook an agent if it was submitted by an unpublished writer?
The opening page of the prologue:
Perhaps it was a tired thing, all the references the world had already made to the Ptolemaic Royal Library of Alexandria. History had proven the library to be endlessly fascinating as a subject, either because the obsession with what it might have contained was bound only by the imagination or because humanity longs for things most ardently as a collective. All men can love a forbidden thing, generally speaking, and in most cases knowledge is precisely that; lost knowledge even more so. Tired or not, there is something for everyone to long for when it comes to the Library of Alexandria, and we have always been a species highly susceptible to the call of the distant unknown.
Before it was destroyed, the library was said to contain over four hundred thousand papyrus scrolls on history, mathematics, science, engineering, and also magic. Many people incorrectly assume time to be a steady incline, a measured arc of growth and progress, but when history is written by the victors the narrative can often misrepresent that shape. In reality, time as we experience it is merely an ebb and flow, more circular than it is direct. Social trends and stigmas change, and the direction knowledge moves is not always forward. Magic is no different.
The little-known truth of the matter is that the Library of Alexandria burned down to save itself. It died to rise again, its burning less metaphorically phoenix-like and more strategically Sherlockian. When Julius Caesar rose to power, it became obvious to the ancient Caretakers of (snip)
Loading ...The opening page of chapter one:
The day Libby Rhodes met Nicolás Ferrer de Varona was coincidentally also the day she discovered that “incensed,” a word she had previously had no use for, was now the only conceivable way to describe the sensation of being near him. That had been the day Libby accidentally set fire to the lining of several centuries-old drapes in the office of Professor Breckenridge, dean of students, clinching both Libby’s admission to New York University of Magical Arts and her undying hatred for Nico in a single incident. All the days since that one had been a futile exercise in restraint.
Incandescence aside, this was to be a very different sort of day, as it was finally going to be the last of them. Barring any accidental encounters, which Libby was certain they’d both furiously ignore—Manhattan was a big place, after all, with plenty of people ravenously avoiding each other—she and Nico were finally going their separate ways, and she would never have to work with Nico de Varona again. She’d practically burst into song over it that morning, which her boyfriend, Ezra, presumed to be the consequence of the occasion’s more immediate matters: either graduating top of her class (tied with Nico, but there was no use focusing on that), or delivering the NYUMA valedictory speech. Neither accolade was anything to scoff at, obviously, but the more enticing prospect was the newness of the era approaching.
It was the last day Libby Rhodes would ever set eyes on Nico de Varona, and she (snip)
Loading ...
You can turn the page and read more here. Kindle users can request a sample sent to their devices, and I’ve found this to be a great way to evaluate a narrative that is borderline on the first page and see if it’s worth my coin.
This novel was number three on the New York Times trade paperback fiction bestseller list for March 20, 2022. Were the opening pages of the prologue or the first chapter of The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake compelling?
My votes: No on the prologue. A tentative yes on the first chapter. It’s so nice of Amazon to provide the ability to download a healthy sample to see where a narrative goes. But, I’ve been told, literary agents frequently say no at the first page of a manuscript.
This book received 4.4 out of 5 stars on Amazon. This is probably just me, but a page of fairly dense exposition is like a wall placed before my burgeoning interest, which is ready for a story or, at the least, an appealing character. It turns out that the stuff about the library is key to the story later (I think), but I didn’t want to climb that wall. I’m certain that it will appeal to a number of WU readers. But, still, would this opening of the prologue pass the harried-agent-with-fifty-queries-to -plow-through test?
Then there’s the opening to the first chapter. It does introduce me to a potentially likeable character, and we begin with her in media res of a significant event. And conflict is foreshadowed by her feelings about Nico. Her enmity makes me want to know more about both of them, and to see what comes of their conflict. So a page turn, yes. But I’m only a clump of exposition away from closing the book. Your thoughts?
You’re invited to a flogging—your own You see here the insights fresh eyes bring to the performance of bestseller first pages, so why not do the same with the opening of your WIP? Submit your prologue/first chapter to my blog, Flogging the Quill, and I’ll give you my thoughts and even a little line editing if I see a need. And the readers of FtQ are good at offering constructive notes, too. Hope to see you there.
To submit, email your first chapter or prologue (or both) as an attachment to me, and let me know if it’s okay to use your first page and to post the complete chapter.
[coffee]
Ray Rhamey is the author of five novels and one writing craft book, Mastering the Craft of Compelling Storytelling. He’s also an editor of book-length fiction and designs book covers and interiors for Indie authors and small presses. His website, crrreative.com, offers an a la carte menu of creative services for writers and publishers. Learn more about Ray’s books at rayrhamey.com.
The writing in the first two graphs of the prologue is so sure-handed and clear that I don’t mind the exposition, because I have quickly come to trust my writer-as-guide and believe he or she is leading me somewhere. The where is the last four words of that second paragraph, which I found a terrific payoff.
I’m not a big fantasy fan, because too often writers either invent the rules as the go along or create a world with self-inconsistencies because that’s easy or convenient. I haven’t heard of either this novel, but the first page or so of the prologue would have me reading on. That said, the use of the word “magic” as a generalized term shows inconsistent world-building. Is a TV magic? A bumblebee’s wings? Most of us can’t understand how the first works, and even scientists can’t agree on the second, but we assume the rules of our world, however incompletely understood, simply incorporate these things. I find it highly unlikely that a world where a diverse set of not-in-our-current-world phenomena are commonplace would lump all those things under one generalized term.
The first chapter stops me, makes me want to hold onto my pennies. Here’s where I think the writer needs to get past exposition and create a conflict that matters, unless this is MG/YA, audiences where school is a conflict in itself.
I voted no on both. The prologue felt wordy and self-important—too meandering to keep my interest. It didn’t raise any big questions or create a mystery. If you’re going to use a prologue, it better be there to pull me into the plot and leave me intrigued. The first chapter was even a more emphatic no. I’m a bit over schools of magic to start with, but I might have stuck with it if not for the wordiness and fact that it didn’t give me anything to care about why this protagonist was apparently mad at somebody. (I also feel like it’s cuing up a bit too obvious an “enemies to lovers” plot.)
What Dave said.
This prologue could have been presented later – possibly most easily as dialogue from the detested Nico. That said, the writing in both prologue and chapter was.quite graceful, but zero conflict was presented. That with Nico was discussed, but distantly, so thatno real emotional connection was possible, at least for me. I’ve largely stopped reading fantasy for this reason; many such seem to be conflict-averse. They rely instead on world construction.
I was a yes on the prologue more because of the intriguing premise — it had me at Library of Alexandria + magic – than because of the writing. I was a no on Chapter 1 because I felt pretty removed from the narrative voice, not like I was “in” Libby’s head. It also didn’t read to me as all that “in media res”…more like another mini-prologue to set the stage before any actual action occurs.
Prologue: I had to suppress my interest in history, especially in the Alexandria Library (about which there are many false narratives), to concentrate on the writing, which was way too stodgy. No.
First chapter: Not bad, but how often have we been introduced at the outset to a female protagonist who hates the (presumed) antagonist but obviously will encounter him throughout? I sense a bodice-buster coming on. No.
It’s not just you, Ray. I could see the rough shape of an entertaining story in there, but a wall was indeed in the way. Each paragraph was dense not only with exposition, but with this interesting idea and that interesting idea (magic!), and then each thought was repeated in a slightly different way. I was blocked, not gripped.
As one of those people whom the author dismisses, that is to say, one who is intrigued by the Library of Alexandria and its destruction, I tolerated the dull prologue. Other commenters correctly pointed out the lack of intrigue-building. Chapter 1 lost me due to the tired introduction of fantasy tropes: the not-really-bungled interview for the school of magic, and the telegraphing of the “enemies to friends” relationship. I didn’t feel that this author was going to deliver an exciting take on fantasy. I love fantasy too much to waste my time on bad writing. The only purpose of the prologue was to establish a blasé narrative tone. The magic wasn’t happening for me. And isn’t that what fantasy is for?
I would have needed someone’s advice or a longer look at the book’s premise to be a “go” on Chapter 1. Too much chance it’s “only” about this world. I already live here. But that Prologue had me right from the start. Agree with others the writing is sure-handed, I love the idea of foreshadowing and things coming around later. I’d have been downright disappointed if Chapter 1 had NOT started in the here and now, because I really want the old problems to come back again. Ancient history is my jam, and fantasy (magic) is the hobby. Prologue is a much bigger tool in fantasy than other genres. I’m so in.
I just love this feature! You are terrific, and it’s always thought-provoking and educational. Thank you!
You are more than welcome.
Ray, interesting that my thoughts mirrored yours on the Prologue & First Chapter. Prologue’s long sentences, detailing history was skimmed over. Only the last part caught my interest. The first chapter showed a conflict that might lead into a story. Not too invested in the characters yet though. I’m playing around with a Prologue for a second Women’s Fiction book. It’s heavily emotional. The main character’s email, opening up her feelings when she completes medical treatment for a serious immune system disorder. She’s conflicted, has only known herself as a patient for so long, she’s doesn’t know who she is now. The first chapter leads into a supposedly victory trek to a volcano in Hawaii. She grips the steel-framed walker and sets out. I think it will work. Let’s see if my editor feels the same. Thanks for addressing this topic. It was helpful for me to think about the use of a prologue.📚🎶 Christine
My advice on prologues is to make it a scene, something with story elements, tension or conflict or a problem a character needs to deal with. A pet peeve is prologues that don’t give a name for the character in the prologue, which means that I don’t know if the prologue storyline applies to the character introduced in chapter one. Argh!
Absolutely agree, Ray. Thank you. Actually the Prologue could be a scene, not an emaIL That’s a great idea. It does have a name, so we know the character. And there could be tension, conflict and story elements. I’m going in the new direction. Excited. I have the go ahead from the main character’s daughter to let the Muse tell me what to write. 📚 Christine
It seemed to me the prologue contained information that could easily have been worked into the story in bits. (I say this as someone fascinated by Alexandria and who has been there.) Also some of the metaphors didn’t work for me. They seemed overwritten. For example, what does this mean: “It died to rise again, its burning less metaphorically phoenix-like and more strategically Sherlockian.” The first page of Chapter 1 circles back repeatedly to the same thought.
The prologue added to it for me, but it would have been better if more succinct. Definitely not my genre to want to read, but I gave it a yes because I immediately had a sense of the character, voice and story conflict and I trusted this author could develop it in a fun way and deliver the background theme of forbidden knowledge. If it was ‘my thing’ I would keep reading.
Yes to the prologue; most specifically, the ending grabbed me HARD.
No to the chapter, because it just didn’t engage me.
I voted yes on the prologue, because I loved the history and themes being introduced — even if I did have to read the first couple sentences twice to understand the awkward grammar, and accustom myself to the density of the prose. The writing became much more assured after that rough start, though.
But I voted no on the first chapter, because it felt so… typical and obvious? Also grammatically convoluted.
Given that with both excerpts I had concerns about the prose, I think I would need to consult GoodReads and/or a few trusted reader-friends before committing to this book in full.
I voted “no” on both, for many of the reasons that people have already expressed — prologue: wordy, no intrigue, etc.; and Ch. 1 felt to me as a flashback, since it talked about the day that she met Nicolas “had been the day …”.
Also, I initially thought that Nicolas and Nico were the same person, so her feelings felt jumbled and confused to me. At that point, I’m working waaaaay too hard to figure out what’s happening, and my efforts were greater than the hint / thread(s) of an entertaining story.
But I do agree with one commenter … Ray, I love this feature, and am a frequent visitor to your website where other authors’ page 1’s are discussed. Excellent!
Many thanks for your kind words, Chuck.
Good grief it’s the first book of a trilogy. No thanks. I said no to both, but went to Amazon to find out more. I like books that begin and end in one telling.
If I were a fan of fantasy or speculative fiction, I would have continued reading both the prologue and first chapter. The voice was confident in both excerpts. The sentence structure and subject matter of the prologue did require careful reading — but what’s wrong with that? I found the character introduced and situation described in Chapter 1 engaging, but maybe if I were a fan, I would have recognized it as a trope.
Magic… fine if it is a magician performing tricks, but magic isn’t real, it is an illusion to make you think something happened, which can be explained scientifically. I dislike magical things in books, there’s enough “stranger than fiction” in our world as it is.
As a reader, it’s right to reject a book because of subject matter, but the point here is to judge storytelling quality. Agents, I believe, only reject subject matter when it comes to things such as abuse of children. With today’s appetite for fantasy, they’d be happy to see a book with magic, but it has to be well written.
True, but I wasn’t all that impressed with the writing here.
No on prologue. I love history, but the way it was presented was static and the writing promised unnecessary wordiness to come. I struggled with the vote on the first chapter. I like the way it started out with a conflict, but I don’t care at all about books about magic schools or magical people. And the verbosity was still tripping me up a bit.
Verbosity! That’s the word for what ails the intro.